Chapter 17 – Gentle Introductions In D-Minor (Patreon)

A bit later, my mind decided to rejoin the company. What with the near-death experience on top of the actual-death experience, however, I still felt a little rough around the edges, like that feeling you sometimes get when a bad hangover has passed. You feel sort of sober, but are confident that you're not firing on all cylinders. I blurted what was closest to mind. "Are they gone?"

The small female - Arack - gave me a sympathetic smile. "A while ago. Don't worry, we've been down here for a couple of years now and you're the first one to find it. Not that many bother roaming around out here, but still." She cocked her head with a thoughtful expression that made her look really young, razor-sharp teeth or not. "That reminds me - how did you find us?"

I shrugged. "A smart girl taught me a couple of tricks on tracking. The dirt around your door gets displaced when you open it, and the handle looked polished with use. Apart from that - Pits if I know. A mixture of good eye sight and dumb luck, I believe." I looked around, really taking in the place. With a dirt floor and walls and sparse furnishment that looked like it had been recycled from ten different goodwills. It was not what you'd call classy, but this very moment, my standards were non-existant. Arack seemed quite a bit more forthcoming than Darek, and I tried nudging her a bit. "Would you mind giving me the grand tour?" I asked with a smile.

She gave me a lopsided smile. "This isn't the King's palace, but sure." She sprang to her feet, and I followed as she led the way. "I was the one who found the place, you know? I'm a scrounger. I find stuff - it's what I'm best at. "And Chubby - that's my big brother Muriel over there - has helped me and Darek keep it secret ever since. You know - oh, wait, you probably don't - but it's really hard as a Fallen to actually keep stuff. A lot harder than finding it in the first place. Of course, with so few of us having actual homes and the castes lording it over us..."

Arack's merry chatter was a welcome diversion, and I took in their home with a smile on my face. It was rather spacious, really. The entrance was also the common room, kitchen and sleeping area, but they had three large rooms on top of that. One was both orderly and half-empty, with a bunch of filled crates stacked at one end and two huge jury-rigged tables. "It's our crafting room, for when Muriel and I stick our heads together and try to craft some...stuff."

The hesitation at the end caught my attention, but I saved my curiosity for later. I also noted with satisfaction how both my Blackmail and Diplomacy skills had increased during my interactions with the trio earlier. With Diplomacy at 9, I looked forward to seeing what would happen at the Apprentice level when I hit 10.

The largest room was probably ten by five meters and filled with paraphernelia. Junk mostly, but arrayed in a purposeful manner that I initially failed to comprehend. "We train here. Well, Darek teaches, and I train, mostly, but sometimes Muriel joins us. Darek a real good teacher, you'll see."

One final room took me completely by surprise. It was, quite clearly, an impromptu class room. A couple of undersized chairs, accompanied by small desks were gathered in front of a larger desk that held a smattering of books and scrolls. Behind the larger desk was also a homemade bulletin board filled with maps, sketches and lists. I was itching to see everything that was portrayed but unfortunately, even a short glance was enough to confirm that most was written in kobold.

"Darek is mostly into practical stuff, but Muriel insists that I learn all sorts of things. Mathematics, mostly, but also some interesting stuff now and then. Like sleight of hand or how to spot who's alert and who isn't."

"You're a scrounger. What does that mean, exactly? What about the other two?"

"Darek's an old hunter. He's slow, but he's still a great shot – and he's an absolute wonder at teaching beginners – woods lore, tactics, monsters, weapons, you name it. Sometimes he gets a job in Pittance Square. Not often lately, though. I – you'd better ask him for yourself, really. Chubby is a jack-of-all-trades and really too clever for his own good. Don't tell him I said so though – he's overconfident as it is. He does all our bartering and when we have a bad month, he's usually able to make a deal with somebody."

"You seem like a talented bunch. I'd love to hear how you met at some point."

She beamed, grinning mischievously. "That'd take some ale – it's not a tale for the faint of heart. But we almost forgot the most important person here. Me!" She performed an exaggerated flourish, which looked extremely silly with her tiny stature. "I'm, simply put, the best thief in Nerit."

I did not know how to answer that. On one hand, I felt offended that a young girl such as her was so up front about being a thief - and clearly proud of it too. On the other, I had my doubts about her claims - she was not exactly an impressive specimen of her species. She was even smaller than Talen and her arms were stick thin, revealing the blood vessels beneath her orange-tinged scales. Sure, the way she moved spoke of impressive agility, but what good would that be if even somebody as weak as me would be able to hold her back until the authorities arrived. I didn't mention any of these thoughts - I'm not completely daft - but some of it must've been apparent on my face.

"You doubt me? Seriously? A clumsy, smooth-skinned pale half-breed who hardly knows how to walk without keeling over?" She rounded on me, eyes sparking in anger.

The sudden chance took me by surprise, and I backed away slowly, trying to calm her down. "Woah. I didn't say that. I'm sure you're an amazing...."

She pushed me in the midriff and followed right after, forcing me to look straight down upon her. "You're damn right I'm an excellent thief." And suddenly, she stopped, throwing her body into one of the small chairs, lounging contentedly with the smile of a cat sated on salmon and cream. "And I'll give you a moment to appreciate just how good I am."

I am not proud of how long it took me to start patting my body and realize that somehow, she'd been able to sweep the Bronze Ring of Amiability off of my finger. The anger that erupted was about to have me shouting at her until, suddenly, I was struck by how completely I'd been had. I forced the anger down and chuckled lightly in appreciation. "I must hand it to you - that was deftly done. Still, what if you get caught? Can you fight your way free?"

She looked less self-assured at that. "Muriel has taught me a couple of tricks, and I've taught myself even more - I think I'd be able to get away from most people."

I let it go - I had no bone in that fight - and derailed her attention. "So - exactly how sound proof is this basement?"

Seconds later, I was basically dragged back to the living room. Somehow, Arack had not managed to connect the dots and realize that having a bard in your home meant access to music and entertainment. I was more than happy to oblige - the last couple of days had me longing for escape. According to her, the basement was close to sound proof, and I should be able to play normally without any consideration. A grudging nod from Darek confirmed this, while Muriel took one look at the violin and fled the room.

Letting my fingers run softly over the strings, I mused on what I wanted to play. I'd have plenty of time to exchange songs and stories with the trio - there was no reason for me to hurry back to Grant's Crossing, and every reason to let things develop slowly. And with that, I started playing. Most often, the music comes to me without any struggle. Today, however, it was elusive, distant. I played tentatively, light notes building up attempted melodies only to break down and rearrange themselves, flowing into different patterns. Slowly, however, relaxation set in, and the different tunes found a rhythm, as if it had been there all along. Like the sea, it evolved, with the music growing in intensity like a wave reaching its crest before returning to the sea. And with each wave, the song built in intensity, like a storm brewing. Only then did I discover what I was releasing through the music. Fury. Pent up fury and anger, like nature's wrath unleashed upon an unsuspecting shore. I did nothing to guide it, simply enjoying the moment, the purity of being able to let my hands and violin speak for me. As can sometimes be the case with a violent storm, once the song had reached its apex, the violence slowly seeped out of it, and within moments, the initial calm had returned. Closing the lid on the guitar case, I couldn't quell the smile on my lips. It might sound simplistic, but to me, playing was therapy, pure and simple. 

Muriel came strolling in moments later, grimacing. "You done torturing cats? Good. Cause I'm thinking you're horribly ignorant of what you've gotten yourself into here in Nerit. Long story short, you need a handler – someone to tell you what's what - and I'm the guy to help you."

My con-man senses started tingling immediately, and I smiled in return. "I completely agree. And you'll do this out of the good of your heart, right?"

His grin was wide enough it felt like I was staring down a shark. "Oh certainly. And the occasional gift, freely given, of course."

Heh – at least he was obvious about his attitude – and I really did need to understand my situation, if I were to somehow gain an audience with the Chief. "I find it very kind of you to offer. And I graciously accept." I bowed theatrically.

He rubbed his hands together. "Any chance at doing something productive today is shot anyway, what with your friends up there – let's go to the classroom."

Before we left, Arack jumped up from where she was sitting, taking everything in. "Can I come? I promise I'll be quiet. And your playing was wonderful – are you always that angry though?"

In a firm tone, Muriel cut her short. "Girl. I'm pretty sure Darek asked you to practice your dagger work." Arack looked crestfallen, but relented, walking off with bowed head. We followed her in silence, passing the training room before entering the classroom. Muriel closed the door firmly behind us.

He leaned on the door. "Now, I want to get this off my chest, so we understand each other." He pointed at the door with a serious look. "Arack is the trusting sort. I, on the other hand, am not. You are not one of us. Whatever you want to achieve, you go ahead and do it, and then you walk your merry way. If we keep on like that, we will able be able to come out ahead. And as you'll learn –" he pointed a scaled thumb at himself, his toothy grin slowly reappearing – "I'm all about the profit."

"I understand – and agree. I'm not going to butt into your private business here, but I hope we can arrive at a mutually beneficial agreement."

"That's fancy folks' talk, but it still sounds like profits to me - and profits I understand. So. Straight talk. You know next to nothing about Nerit, right?"

"Yep." No point sugar-coating it.

"All right. Darek can cover the history lesson at some point. I couldn't care less about that part, but he still has faith in society. Silly old codger. What you really need to learn is this: You officially don't exist. You're outside society. No-one cares about you, your opinions or whether you live or die. Except Talen and his bunch. Heh."

I didn't find that nearly as funny as Muriel. My consternation only made him laugh the harder.

"Better get used to gallow's humor, kid. It's what we got." He sobered up some. "I need to get this through to you, however. The long-reaching arms of the Empire of Nader, its laws, rules and protection? Knights in shining armor and what not? You are outside that. You have been deemed to be a burden on society, and as such, whatever a person does to to you, you'll have to remedy it yourself. Somebody cheat you in a barter? Tough. Learn to cheat them in return or avoid them in the future. A farmer stole all your food? Should've hidden it better. The same drunk hunter comes around every day to humiliate you, or worse, cause he dislikes your pasty skin? Avoid him. There are scant few people protecting our kind, and most of them do so, cause they have a family member or friend who's Anathema. So even if they wanted, they can't do anything official - just try to curb those who prey on us the worst. Is it time for the good news?"

I nodded vigorously, earning another barked laughter from him. 

"All right. Two facts to get that ugly face of you cheered up again: First, the high and mighty members of the Castes don't really bother us that much - and those that do, we know pretty well. Of course, you've managed to piss off one of the worst of 'em. Still, apart from him and his crew, a couple of weeks should have you up to speed on whom to avoid, whom to placate, and who's all talk and no chompers. Second, and my personal favorite. Those same rules that don't apply to those that 'contribute to the splendor of Thracken' when they deal with us dirty, dirty Anathema? They don't apply to us either. So as long as you're dealing with Fallen, feel free to cheat, steal and coerce the best you can - it's a free for all, and the talented among us will shine." 

Those were some pretty limited upsides in my opinion, but beggars and choosers... "The talented among us, you say. Arack called you a jack-of-all-trades. What does that mean, exactly?"

"It means we - Darek and I - try to protect her from the worst of the world. You don't need coddling though - otherwise you won't make it. I am exactly what I need to be in order to ensure that me and mine prosper. I'm a trader, a teller of tales, an extortionist, smuggler, robber or a damn fine gambler. I've also been known to drink too much now and again."

"Gotcha. Well, I appreciate the candor - and the introduction to Nerit. One thing I didn't really catch though. What's the deal with the conflict between the Church and the Chief?"

He raised an eyebrow. "How do you know about that?"

It was my turn to crack a smile. "Let's just say that my judgment ceremony was...interesting. I didn't catch half of what happened, but it felt like the ceremony got turned into a pissing match between the Liberator and the acting guard captain with me caught in between."

His mouth turned into an 'O'. "You'll have to tell me that story in detail later. That's bound to be worth a crock of Ache from Lidack. As for an explanation: it's all about power. Church wants to keep everything as it's always been, Chief wants to make changes. Church has seen better days, but they're still pretty strong and they recruit ‘em young. Chief...well, he hasn't seen much success lately. So it's a stalemate, really, with both sides resorting to sniping and...well, tons of other stuff that's none of our business and has nothing to do with everyday life."

I nodded my thanks. That was a whole lot to take in all at once - especially the part where I was currently worth less than the lowliest farmer - but I decided not to let it bug me. Today I'd get to know the group and the place, and tomorrow I could get back to worrying about my quest. No time like the present. "With how little I know of your people, I'm bound to make a fool of myself at some point. Could you perhaps accompany me tomorrow and make sure I don't screw up too badly?"

He nodded. "I can do that. Just make sure you don't forget my help later on."

I smiled. "I won't. So... being a Fallen. I'm guessing that's not a polite thing to ask questions about?"

"That's putting it mildly. For most people, being judged Anathema is a pretty lousy memory. You know, the whole 'being cast out, separated from friends and family' thing. As for me? I have no problem talking about it. I was born a Fallen – doesn't happen often. When you have no-one to help you, you don't want an extra hungry mouth to feed – my beautiful self being the exception to the rule." His lopsided smile subsided to a grimace. "Of course, life as a Fallen is not easy, and you need to toughen yourself to handle it. A large number of people don't take the change very well and flush out at the bottom – but there's a lot to learn here. You learn to pick your friends and enemies carefully. You learn to vary your routines so you don't get outsmarted. And above all, you learn to live life. There's no reason to worry too much about the future, if you've got enough to scrape by today. Darek still hasn't learned that. Heh. And I don't think Arack worries at all."

"She does seem like a very - bubbly person. However, for whatever it's worth, I'm glad I have your help to figure out all these things for myself. Again, I promise that I'll make it up to all three of you." He waved off my reassurances and started telling me something, but I completely lost focus with the return of a well-known presence to the back of my mind. I held up a hand, interrupting him. "Wonderful timing. Can we open the door a moment? Backup just arrived."

Of course, I was then forced to explain myself to Muriel, and afterwards to the other two, before Darek relented, opening the door a tad - and then backing the hell away, allowing my impressive scaled companion entry into the basement. I was forced to give an explanation as to why a muscular, scaled monstrosity was suddenly acting like a happy pet, but the moment they received confirmation that he was a bonded companion, their attitudes changed.

Darek went with: "He's not sleeping inside - I don't like the way he reeks," Muriel opted for, "There's good eating on one of those, did you know that?" and Arack "Thracken fend, but he's beautiful. What can he do? What does he eat? Can I say hello to him?"

Apparently, companions were common enough that even people from Nerit knew how they worked. Nice - that probably saved me a lot of explaining. Still, I had to answer a torrent of questions from Arack, and in the end, I had to ask Atlas to come say hello to her to interrupt her. I was truly uplifted by his arrival though, and made sure he was aware of it too. The feeling I was getting from him was a mixture of being distraught by being left alone in a strange place, unable to find me, and joy at the thrill of moving among the kobolds entirely unseen. Oh, and there was definitely an undercurrent of smugness too - a sense of "as if these blind bipeds could spot me." I sent back a clear appreciation of his abilities - along with a request for caution. Still, his presence ensured that my plan to get into the good books of the group was very much alive. I scribbled a hurried note and begged a piece of string. After attaching the note firmly to one of the spikes on Atlas' back, Darek helped me with a bit of intel. I then had a good long chat with Atlas to ensure that we agreed on what was to do. He once again astounded me with his intelligence - our conversations had already become less confusing. He was able to repeat my instructions back at me, painted with additions from his own mindset clearly proving that he'd understood the point. I praised him effusively and apologized for not having any snacks I could share with him. He was pretty adamant about how I ought to reward him instead though, and with an ok frem the group, I fished the violin back out to pay him his due. Feeling the happiness bloom inside him whenever I started playing never got old. Also, watching a martial-looking lizard rock along to the tune of the theme song to Pinky and the Brain is something that should be available to everybody.

Eventually, I sent him back out with nothing but warm emotions and tons of empty promises that I hoped I'd be able to keep. Darek helped with directions, and now, I could only hope for the best. If he didn't come through, my time here would be a lot harder. I checked out the in-game clock. Huh - still quite early.Still, with the day I'd had, my mental reserves were running low, and I really didn't feel the need for any further social interaction. "Hey Muriel - I think I'm turning in early today. Any specific spot I should toss my bed roll."

"Any free space in here is fine. If you snore, expect things to come flying your way."

I found a vacant corner and quickly settled in. I marvelled at the lack of dust and debris - seemed like they were a meticulous bunch - and lay down to rest. A while later though, I had to admit to myself that I wasn't going to fall asleep easily today. My mind was still reeling at the effort of adjusting to my new situation. No matter how many times I told my mind to stop whining, unbidden thoughts kept intruding. 'Why didn't I say...', 'Why did I have to antagonize Talen?' and the like. In the end, I opted to distract my mind with something less ominous.

The Photographic Memory overview appeared before me, and I could see the Church of Nerit in all its glory. Or rather, erstwhile glory. When I was escorted into the church, I didn't have time to see the state of the building. Now, I was able to take in the entire dilapidated state of the building. It must've been intimidating as all hells in its heyday - today, however, it was more of a work in progress. Most of the carved scenes adorning the front could still be made out. Still, cracks, small and large criss-crossed the entire facade, and several carvings had been partially destroyed by whatever event had taken place. Now, they clearly hadn't just been sitting on their behinds in the time since the event. Several scenes had been repaired, and one corner of the building looked like it had been rebuilt entirely.

I had to marvel at the magnifying powers of my skill - I could zoom in enough to make one carving fill my vision entirely. Even so, the meaning of the carvings eluded me for the longest time. I could spot no progress from the left to the right side of the building and every floor sported one gigantuous scene. This left us with four floors, sporting very distinct scenes with no clear progression between the scenes. That is, until I recalled the first time I'd ever read anime and how the right-to left writing confused me. The moment I realized that the progress started from the ground up, things started making sense, however, and I realized I was looking at an origin story of sorts. All the carved writing was still so much gibberish to me, but the rest told its own story.

The ground scene had us among the clouds, in harmony. The entire scene was one large, forested scene, with the scene covered with gods conversing, kissing, frolicking or just relaxing. I recognized a few gods from their descriptions - Serune, for instance, with her symbol on the hand and a face hidden in a hood was conversing with whom I interpreted as Liayenne - a feminine figure, wearing only shadows to ensure her modesty. Others eschewed modesty entirely, but all told, the scene was one of tranquility, friendship and joy. The center of the multitude was, unsurprisingly, Thracken, who appeared both benevolent and wise, having three other deities sitting at his feet, listening.

The second scene was a reprise of the first, only subtly altered. The listeners at Thracken's feet were mocking him, making faces. Some gods were openly pointing at him or staring in horror. A rare few were more openly hostile. A huge, barbarian-looking brute of a dwarf was opening a gate into darkness, gesturing for Thracken. Throwing him out of Heaven, perhaps? One elven beauty averted her eyes, as a mean-looking halfling was fingering a hand axe - and Serune looked every bit the same as in the last image, only this time her smile was mocking, and she was holding a dagger behind her back. Goddess of grudges, eh?

In the third, Thracken had clearly been expelled from Heaven, and had found his place among his own race on Neyrus. A small tribe was worshipping him and following directions, with a lot going on in the background. Soldiers were training under supervision, farmers were doing their thing, buildings were being erected and much else. Undoubtedly, all these happenings were of grave importance in the kobold history of Neyrus, but I could merely conclude that it was a busy time.

The final scene was portrayed in a triumphant light, but carried an ominous light for all non-kobold races. Thracken was no longer interacting directly with his people, but was portrayed inside an alcove, sitting on a huge throne while the world revolved around him. This was without a doubt the busiest display, and they all spelled world domination to me. Armies were being directed, battles fought, cities built and conquered and non-kobolds put to the sword or subjugated. The church was everywhere too, with priests - or 'liberators' - calling the shots in most depictions. Everywhere, kobolds were advancing and winning, while Thracken was overseeing all as a powerful, all-seeing presence.

Wow. Good thing somebody managed to spoil their plans back then - one conversation with a Liberator was enough for me. Still, the picture of the happenings back then were becoming less muddled. Clearly things had been going swimmingly for them, until...what? That remained to be seen. Still, it corresponded well with the mural inside the secret army outpost on the west side of the Jagged Rush. Fiddling around with the zoom slider, I was blown away by the details of the carvings. For instance, the inside of the alcove was packed with small images of the other gods, looking down at Thracken in dismay and fear. And the cities portrayed in battles in the third image were painstakingly carved and varied enough that I was ready to bet the scenes depicted actual cities and historical battles. Also, the Liberators were presented in enough detail that....wait a minute. I froze for a moment in realization. One single item was sculpted in the exact same manner on all Liberators - the scepter they were carrying. It also just so happened to look mighty similar to the scepter Thracken himself was carrying in all images. That in itself was of no importance - for all I knew, it was simply religious paraphernalia - the important thing was that I'd seen them before. Inside the secret outpost the scepter had also been depicted, carried by what was almost certainly the local Liberator - with one minor addition. Namely a number of lines, pointing straight at other similar Liberators. Curious that. Could we be talking about some magic MacGuffin, connecting them all or some such nonsense? I shook my head. It was of no importance to me, at the moment - but the lore was intriguing as hell.

I checked over the scenery a bit further, marveling at the level of gore in some of the scenes. Finally, I could feel a yawn building and closed the image. Before settling in, however, I caved and checked out the pop-up I'd received:

[Quest updated: 

"Once Were Legion" (Chronicler Quest)
You have been able to confirm that the kobolds were not only building a military presence prior to The Separation. From the looks of it, they were actually building up to a major invasion of Neyrus. Figure out what happened and why it failed to succeed.

Reward: unknown]

I grinned and closed the window. Now, if real life had incentives like this, I'd be much less ignorant on the topic of history.

With heavy eyelids, I surrendered to sleep.